On the Sand [A Jarheads Novel]

by Sean Michael

  Rock's teeth scraped over the sweet spot on his neck, started sucking up a mark.

  "Fuck. Yeah. Please.” He was going to. Oh. Oh, sweet fuck. “Gonna..."

  Dick's head bobbed, suction stronger, hard and insistent. Spunk poured from him, his entire body arching, rejoicing. Rock groaned, Dick crying out around his flesh, swallowing around him. Rig just shuddered, shaking hard. So good.

  "That's fucking sweet.” Rock's words were growled against his skin, his Blue's hips beginning to rock, pushing that cock along his ass, the small of his back.

  "Uh-huh. I needed, so bad."

  Dick kissed his way back up, smiling, prick rubbing against his belly. “Missed your taste. So much."

  Rig nodded, took a kiss that thanked Dick the best way he knew how. They moved together, pricks sliding against his belly and back, the smell of sex rising up strong around them. Perfect. This was perfect. He reached back, fingers twining with Rock's. Rock squeezed his hand, and nibbled at his earlobe, breath loud and eager.

  He could feel them getting closer, knew it wouldn't be long in the way their bodies lost the rhythm.

  "Come on. Come on.” He wanted to feel them. Smell like them.

  Dick cried out first, bucking as heat splashed up his belly, but Rock came right after, coating his back as well.

  "My men.” Thank God. He hadn't lost this.

  "Mmm ... Happy Thanksgiving.” Rock murmured against his jaw, turning his face for a kiss.

  Dick cuddled in. “We've got a lot to be thankful for."

  He nodded, opening up to Rock's kiss.

  "We've got awhile still before we have to put the turkey in the oven, right?"

  "Uh-huh. Thank God.” He needed a nap.

  Dick's “cool” was almost lost beneath Rock “Thank fucking God."

  Chuckling, Dick snuggled in, smiling at him, eyes happy.

  "Thank you."

  "Anytime. And I really mean that."

  "Forever."

  And he really meant that.

  Chapter Forty Three

  Dick was feeling a little frazzled. He and Rock usually helped out some, but damn, there was a lot of stuff to pull off at the same time, even with all the prep work they'd done the day before, and Rock was distracting Rig from trying to push himself too much with a little tonsil hockey.

  Which was distracting enough for him.

  And then the doorbell went. Oh man, that was Deuce and Gary.

  "I'll get it.” Rig stood, heading for the door, moving easier each and every day.

  "You wanna set the table? If we don't get it done now, you know Rig'll do it.” And easier as Rig seemed in his skin, Dick had a hunch having visitors was going to take it out of him. Grunting a yes, Rock started setting the table while he got the rolls into the oven.

  "Uncle Jimmy! Richard!” Deuce came in, arms filled with a box of beer, chips, dip and random snack food. “I brought stuff and Gary made a cheese tray."

  Dick grinned. He still found it amusing when Deuce called Rock Uncle Jimmy; the kid had grown up into a big burly marine and it seemed incongruous. “Did you think we weren't going to lay on a spread for you?"

  "I knew, but...” Deuce blushed a little and Rig clapped him on the shoulder.

  "But he was raised right and knows you always bring stuff. Hey, Gary, how's it going?"

  "Just fine, Mr. Roberts. Thank you. Are you feeling better?"

  Rock took the case of beer from Deuce and took a few out to put into the refrigerator. “He's feeling well enough to backseat drive the cooking."

  "I was helping. Asshole. And I'm Rig or Alex, please."

  "Oh, is that what you call it ... And you can call me Rock."

  "And I'm Dick.” They'd been through all this when they'd first met Gary at the hospital, but they hadn't exactly spent a lot of time with Deuce and Gary.

  "I'll try to remember that. Thank you for inviting me to have Thanksgiving with you."

  Dick felt for the guy—it was never easy meeting the in-laws. Of course Rig's family had made him feel like one of them right from the get go.

  Deuce just beamed. “Don't worry, Gar. This is a safe place. You feeling better, Uncle Alex?"

  "Getting there, son. You know it."

  "Is the game on yet?” Dick asked. “We could have the stuff you brought and our munchies and watch the start. I think I've got everything covered here for awhile."

  "I'll help you, Dick. Guys, go. Sit.” Rig headed toward the sink and Rock growled.

  "Deuce could help me, yeah?"

  "That sounds like a great idea.” Rock grabbed the cheese tray from Gary in one hand, and Rig's arm with the other.

  Duece chuckled, shook his head. “Shit, he looks way better, but Ma-maw'd scream, huh?"

  "Yeah, she would. I think Rock probably made up for her.” He wasn't convinced Rock'd really taken a proper breath yet.

  "Why don't you go in and join them, Gary?” He handed over a tray with the cheeseball, ranch dip and a bowl of chips. “Deuce and me'll be out in a bit."

  Gary looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights as he looked over at Deuce.

  "Go on, honey. They don't bite.” Deuce patted Gary's ass, winked.

  "You sure? The big guy's bigger even than you.” Gary leaned up to kiss Deuce's cheek and then headed into the front room, tray in hand.

  Dick chuckled. “He's cute, even if he is short. Where did you find him?"

  "At a VA hospital visit.” Deuce looked down, then back up.

  Dick frowned. What was it with the Roberts men and not sharing their burdens? He went to the fridge and got them each a cold beer, handing one over to Deuce. “What were you doing at the hospital?"

  "Me? My unit goes once a month to visit the patients. You know, be good to other folks.” Deuce took the beer, sucked it down.

  "Hey, that's cool. So what was Gary doing there?” He put his hip against the counter and drank his more slowly.

  "He was in for pneumonia. He, uh, he's got ... Well. I mean, he's sorta. Shit."

  Dick put his hand on Deuce's shoulder. “Hey. We're family here, right?"

  "Yeah. I just. I ain't told nobody, Richard, you know? Not Alex or Jimmy, either.” Deuce's lips twisted. “He's got AIDS. And before you say anything, I'm careful and we don't do stuff that's dangerous and stuff."

  Dick's hand froze with his bottle halfway to his mouth. Shit. That was pretty heavy.

  "So you knew before you got involved with him? Don't you think ... I mean didn't...” Shit. He was supposed to be good at this kind of thing.

  "Yeah. Yeah, I knew.” Deuce shrugged. “I love him. He's a real good man, Uncle Richard. Funny, smart. Fine."

  "I know you don't get to choose who you love.” And Deuce, being not only Rig's nephew, but Rock's as well, really, wouldn't have turned his back on someone he loved just because the man was sick and it was going to be a hard row to hoe. “You're being really, really careful, though, right? And getting tested regularly?"

  "I am. I swear.” Deuce nodded. “Don't go tellin’ Uncle Alex, though, ‘kay? Not until he's better. He'll get all doctory and shit.” Jesus, was he ever that young?

  "Don't you want to talk to him because he is a doctor? He could help you both.” And he wasn't sure if he could keep something like this from Rig.

  "Not yet. Not unless Gary wants me to."

  Dick sighed. “How bad is it? I mean is he really sick? Taking pills?” The guy hadn't looked sick.

  "He takes this cocktail deal, but he could have years and years, man. They're trying new stuff all the time. Don't worry, huh? I'm a marine. I'm good."

  "You have anyone to talk to?"

  "Yeah. Gary.” The empty went into the recycle bin, another longneck snagged. “So? What do you need me to do, man?"

  "Well, we need drinks for everyone. And we can bring out more chips. I think everything else is good until the timers go off.” He grabbed the stuff to put a shake together for Rig. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to, or if you wa
nt help telling Rig..."

  "Thanks, Uncle Richard.” He got a sudden, hard hug. “Thanks for not being mad about Alex, too. He plumb scared me, when I saw him."

  Dick hugged Deuce back. “No, no, we were really glad you called. It's good you could come for Thanksgiving, too, yeah? Good for Rig to have family around."

  "Yeah. Come on. Football!"

  "Yeah, football and beer and munchies. Sounds good.” He patted Deuce on the shoulder and grabbed some more longnecks out of the fridge, carrying them and Rig's shake into the front room.

  Rig was sitting on the floor, head on Rock's thigh, Rock's hand on those curls. Gary was sitting on the old green sectional and staring everywhere but at the two of them.

  He passed out the drinks and sat next to Gary. “So who's winning?"

  "Redskins. Thank you.” Gary relaxed as Deuce sat too. Leaned.

  "How come y'all got beer and I got a milkshake?” Rig was pouting mightily.

  "Because you're special.” If Rig wasn't careful he was going to lean right in and kiss that pout.

  "Uh-huh. Right.” Rig took a drink, hummed softly. It was pineapple and strawberry with protein powder and Rig liked it, had been drinking them for two days without complaint.

  He split his attention between the game, Rig and Rock, and Gary and Deuce. Gary looked at Deuce with stars in his eyes. Well they had that going for them at least. Rig, on the other hand, finished half his shake and started dozing again.

  Rock was munching away, he and Deuce putting away the food like there wasn't a huge meal on its way. He grinned, sitting back, enjoying the almost normality of it.

  Gary looked over, nodded at Rig. “Is he feeling better?"

  "Yeah, he's good. Still too fucking skinny and he needs a lot of sleep, but he's good.” He smiled over at Rig and caught Rock's eye, smile widening. Rock gave him a wink and raised his beer bottle.

  "So what do you do, Gary?"

  "I'm a graphic designer for a little entertainment magazine. Layout, covers, photo manips—that sort of thing."

  "That sounds pretty cool—you like it?"

  "I do. I learned in the Navy, believe it or not."

  "For real?"

  "Yep. Worked for the Armed Forces press. Rob says you're in school and you own a gym?"

  Rob. Man did that sound weird, but it made sense. “Yeah, me and Rock own a gym and I've just started taking courses to get a degree in psychology."

  Well, he would be starting again in January—none of his courses were going to count this semester, but they weren't going to count against him either. He'd managed to keep that tidbit from Rig.

  "Very cool. Good luck to you. I keep trying to convince Rob to go to school, but he's still into the Marines."

  Deuce arched an eyebrow. “I'm not into books, honey."

  "There's nothing wrong with the Marines,” Dick said.

  "That's fucking right.” Looked like Rock was paying more attention to them than the game.

  "Well, it's not the friendliest place for a queer man.” Gary shrugged. “And Rob's smarter than he thinks."

  Rig blinked awake. “Nothing wrong with Deuce, y'all."

  Dick chuckled. “I don't think anyone's saying there is, Rig."

  Rock grunted. “I've been queer my whole fucking life, including the twenty years I served uncle Sam, and I'd do them over again just the same. There isn't a damn thing wrong with being a Marine."

  "No, Rocketman. Not a thing. I fucking love marines.” Rig stretched, wincing. “Gonna have to move. My butt's sore."

  "Got a lap right here with your name on it.” Rock patted his thighs.

  Gary stared as Rig crawled up, settled right in Rock's lap and cuddled.

  Dick chuckled. “I take it you're not out at all?"

  "No. No, we ... We're very careful."

  Deuce chuckled, patted Gary's hand. “Uncle Jimmy and Alex have been together forever."

  "They have. And you don't have to be careful here."

  "No, not at all.” Rig cuddled into Rock with a sigh. Dick grinned as Gary's hand slowly slid over to rest on Deuce's thigh. Then Dallas made a touchdown and suddenly it all didn't matter. They were all hooting and hollering.

  Now as long as the turkey wasn't raw or totally dried out, it was going to turn out to be a great Thanksgiving. He glanced over at Rig and Rock. Yeah, even if the turkey did get screwed up it would be great. He sure as fuck had a lot to be thankful for.

  Chapter Forty Four

  They'd eaten like fucking kings.

  The food had been pretty damned good, if he did say so himself. Rig was settled in bed, Dick and Deuce were doing dishes, leaving him alone with Gary.

  Rock grinned over at the kid—shit didn't that make him feel old—Deuce a fucking Marine and Goddamned dating. “So Gary. You treating my nephew right?"

  He figured if Jeremy wasn't around to give anyone Deuce brought home a hard time, he'd have to pick up the slack and do it himself.

  "I try, sir. He's a sweet man.” Gary wasn't his type, not at all, short and square, too-long black hair and pointed goatee. Still, Deuce liked him.

  Sweet. “He's a good man. A marine."

  "He is. Not many men would start a relationship with someone in my condition. He never even hesitated."

  One of his eyebrows went up. “Your condition?"

  "Rob didn't tell you? I thought ... Fuck."

  "I think maybe you'd better tell me.” He puffed up some, growled a little.

  "Don't pull the family intimidation thing, man. Trust me. I'm not into that.” Dark eyes just stared at him. “I've got AIDS."

  Rock just stared.

  He must have heard wrong.

  Gary's cheeks went a deep dark red, but the man didn't look away.

  "You start up with someone with a thing like that hanging over your head?"

  "I did. If you'll excuse me.” Gary stood and just headed for the kitchen, spine stiff as a board.

  Fucking hell.

  He sat staring at the TV, kind of stunned. How the fuck was he going to tell Rig?

  Rock heard the back door open, then shut, then Deuce appeared in the doorway, jacket on. “Don't know what happened during dishes, Uncle Jimmy, but we're heading out. I'll come back by tomorrow."

  "No, you sit down a minute, Robert."

  "Gary's in the car...” Robert came in, lips tight. “Did y'all have words?"

  "He told me he's got AIDS. He told me he started up with you knowing he had AIDS."

  "That's right."

  Rock crossed his arms. “Then I don't know how he can say he cares for you."

  "Well, I don't reckon you have to know. This ain't about you. This is between me and Gary."

  "I'm your family, Deuce."

  "You are and I love you, Uncle Jimmy, but that don't mean you can speak against Gary.” Deuce sighed, hand rubbing over his high and tight.

  Rig came wandering in from the hallway, swaying, frowning. “What's wrong? I heard the car start."

  "You'd better sit.” He shot a look at Deuce. “Both of you."

  "Gary's waiting for me in the car. I'm going, Uncle Alex. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "What? What's wrong with the guest room? It's all brand new up there. I built it myself."

  Fucking shit, all he'd wanted was for Rig to have a good Thanksgiving. “I didn't say anything against Gary. Go get him and stay in the fucking guest room. We can talk in the morning."

  Deuce looked at him, then Rig, then nodded. “Okay. Sure, Uncle Jimmy. Sure. I'll get him to come on."

  Was he ever that young?

  "I'm taking your Uncle Alex back to bed before he falls over.” That way he wouldn't be tempted to say anything when he saw Gary.

  "Okay. Night, y'all. I ... We'll see you in the morning, yeah?” Deuce just looked dazed.

  "Deuce? You okay?” Rig was catching on, starting to worry. He could tell.

  Goddamn it. “He's just fine. Gary took offense at something I said is all. It doesn't matter right now.” He l
ooped his arm around Rig's waist and headed them back down the hall, stopping at the kitchen long enough to tell Dick they were going to bed.

  Rig leaned hard, almost asleep on his feet. “It was a good Thanksgiving, huh? I ate a ton."

  "Yeah, it was a good day. And you've got leftovers for the next ... year?” He grinned and kissed the top of Rig's head.

  "Maybe two. What's up with Deuce and his guy?"

  "It can wait until morning.” He stripped Rig back down, and then took off his own clothes, sliding them both under the covers.

  Rig hummed softly, cuddling right in, snuggling. The hospital bed was gone, Rig's movements easier against him. He closed his eyes, running his fingers along Rig's spine. It might have been his imagination, but he thought maybe Rig had found a few pounds. “Mmm. Thank you for everything, Blue. It was all good."

  "Yeah, it was."

  He could hear Dick talking to Deuce and Gary, the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the guest bedroom door closing. Then the kid was there, closing the door and stripping down. “Hey."

  Rig murmured a welcome, lips on his shoulder.

  "Man, we're all bedding down early. All that cooking tire you out, Rock?"

  "You know it."

  Chuckling, Dick leaned over to give him a kiss, then Rig. Dick met his eyes, the look knowing, a little worried, a little sad. He tried not to sigh, not to stiffen, not to give Rig any reason to do anything but just fall asleep again.

  "Y'all okay?” Rig leaned to look, searching his eyes, Dick's. “What's wrong, y'all? What's got everybody all riled?"

  Rock shook his head. “Just go to sleep, Rig.” He nibbled at Rig's neck, stroked the skinny belly.

  "My boys are all tense.” Rig arched a little, hummed sweet and slow.

  "We just need a little loving.” Dick chuckled, but he helped, mouth finding Rig's nipple.

  "Well, that's my pleasure.” Rig lifted his face, mouth meeting his in a long, serious kiss. Groaning, he sank into it, everything else disappearing but him and Rig and Dick. This was what they needed, this place that was all theirs. The rest of the world could go to hell. Dick's leg slid over Rig's, tangled with his, and their hands met over Rig's prick.

  "Mmm. Y'all.” Rig wasn't hard, but there was the promise of it there, that fine cock beginning to swell. Fuck, he'd never take that for granted again. At least not for the next few months.